When the Cold Burns
by vossievosloo
Summary: World of Tanks. A once popular video arcade game, it kept computer geeks at their computer screens more than any other MMO had ever done. But now, in the year 2083, its more than just a computer game. It's as real as gets.
1. Chapter 1

World of Tanks. A once popular video arcade game, it kept computer geeks at their computer screens more than any other MMO had ever done. But now, in the year 2083, its more than just a computer game. It's as real as gets.

Hailed as the game of champions, it's the way the modern world plays war. From the multi-national corporations to the PMC's, the world's governments, privateers and average Joes; all men and woman from all walks of life, everyone has some involvement. Either for fun, for profit or for actual war, Tanks have become the main stay of the modern civilized world, and the men and woman who compete in them, the modern, civilized gladiators.

The crews themselves are actually kept safe by several key features. First off, the tanks themselves, although fully breakable, have modern composite ceramic armor, capable of stopping any shell used in the games from penetrating to the crew compartment.  
Second, standard issue battle armor, given to even the newest recruit, protects from shrapnel and explosive blasts, enabling the crew to perform outside repairs, recon, or other activities outside their tank, yet still remain safe, even under fire.  
Last of all is the actual combat system. High tech sensors, computers and algorithms are used in each tank to calculate if whether or not a tank is penetrated, and how much damage a tank receives. This means that essentially, each tank has a health pool, giving a certain amount of survivability to even small light tanks. But once that health pool is depleted, its candles for the tank.

But better the tank than the men and woman who fight from within. Yes, civilized war, indeed.

"Contact. Enemy spotted"  
"Hold fire until he crests the ridge."  
"Roger that." 

Scott watched silently through his view scope as the enemy WZ-131 hurtled down the far slope of the valley.  
"You ready for him Mark?" Scott asked quietly into his headset.  
"Target acquired" was the simple reply.  
Mark was the gunner. A quiet and gentle man, but deadly when it came to laying the main 105mm canon on target.  
"Hang fire until I give the order."  
Scott's main view scope was right next to the gunners, so his point of view was identical to Mark's. He waited patiently as the WZ disappeared behind the ridge, quartering slightly. Without a word, the turret of the Leopard 1 medium tank turned to the right, its gun being brought to bear on the spot where Mark predicted the WZ would reappear.  
Scott had no reason to doubt Mark's judgment. He was hardly ever wrong.  
As predicted, the WZ crested the ridge exactly where Mark had the 105mm gun brought to bear.  
"Fire." 

The WZ-131 lurched to the side as the 105mm Armor piercing composite rigid shell of the Leopard's main gun collided with its hull side armor. The shell punched right through the 20mm of armor, a full penetrating shot. It was, however, stopped, by the high tech ceramic armor inside the crew compartment, protecting the crew within. This was, after all, only a game. 

"Hit" Scott said aloud, his voice now slightly louder in his crews headsets. "396 damage dealt. Prepare to fire second shot, load HE!"  
Below Scott, Klaus Evans, barely having heard the order to change shell type, already had an HE shell in hand, his intuition of his commander and their target already having urged him to go for HE. Seven point nine seconds later, he had the shell in the breach and the breach lock closed.  
"Ready to fire!" he bellowed.  
"Mark, status?"  
Mark had kept the gun on the now fleeing WZ the whole time, the turret rotating and the gun elevating to compensate for shell drop to target.  
"Target acquired!"  
"Shoot!" 

The deafening boom of the main canon was a main stay of every crewman's life, yet each of them still blinked, the only visible reaction, as the high powered cannon let loose another shell. This one collided with the back side of the WZ's hull. This time the shell exploded on impact, causing a devastating blast that wrecked the tank's engine and blew off its right track, causing it to grind to a halt. 

"Hit! 468 damage. He's still got some life left in him!" Scott said to his crew. He had hoped for more damage with that shot, but he had known not to expect it. "Reload, HE! Tom, prepare to get us out of here."  
"Aye sir!" replied Tom, the driver, as he revved the diesel engine of the Leopard, readying her for departure once the kill shot had been fired. 

"Ready to fire!"  
"Shoot!"  
The WZ erupted into flames as the final HE round hit it. Its full allotment of hit points, 880, had now been taken away by three quick shots from the Leopard 1. The crew inside were unharmed, however, the composite armor of their crew compartment and their battle suites doing what they were designed to do, keep them safe. Their tank, however, was dead, now awaiting the end of battle to be removed and repaired. The WZ-131 is a rare tank after all, one especially made for the game. 

"Ok Tom, let's go." Scott now said. He then flicked a switch on his UHF radio, initializing the connection between his tank and that of his company commander's. "This is Leo 1, come in CO."  
"Hold on for CO" came the reply from a voice that Scott would have preferred to his CO's.  
Scott waiting only a few seconds for his commanding officer to come online.  
"Reading you loud and clear Leo 1. What's the story Scott?"  
"Enemy wee-zee is down sir, proceeding to second check point."  
"Roger that son, head on over. Blake and his 140 are already there waiting for you."  
"Got it sir."  
"Good work Scott, over." 

Captain John Ronaldson was a broad, over bearing man with a deep booming voice and the tact of a pork chop in a Jewish synagogue. But he was a caring, loyal man, and above all else, he knew how to command a company of tanks like few others. His company, Echo company, was the reason that Clan BLAZE was leading this year's clan wars. And the young man who commanded the Leo 1 was a fundamental part of his strategies.  
John knew that Scott was good. He had trained Scott to be the commander he had become, efficient, resourceful, quick thinking and creative, the perfect blend of out the box thinking combined with traditional powerhouse tactics.  
_Just the man to succeed me_, John thought to himself as he sat with his head outside the commanders hatch of his E100 super heavy tank.  
"Sir?" said a young, feminine voice.  
"Up here Chloe." John boomed into his headset.  
Chloe Ronaldson was John's youngest daughter, but already she was twenty five. A blonde bombshell, she was the companies golden girl and the pride of John's old age, the perfect replica of his late wife.  
The secondary hatch next to John opened up and out came Chloe's head, her long blonde hair beat down by her helmet.  
"Hi sir." she said sweetly.  
"Chloe." he simply said, trying his best to keep professional, but failing as a broad, proud smile spread across his face.  
"How we doing?"  
"Your the radio operator, you should know" he accused her with a smile.  
"I do, but I want to know what you think." she winked back at him. Chloe knew exactly how to charm her over bearing father. She loved him as a daughter should, knowing how much it meant to him to have her with him in his profession. And it was a big bonus that she loved tanks almost as much as he did. She had, after all, grown up on and around them.  
"Ok. Well, Scott just radioed in. He just took out the wee-zee. That just leaves the AMX 13 90 and the Chaffee alive to scout for the enemy. That means that they will have to start playing more forward. If I have guessed right, that means that their Maus and the two T57's will probably head to the town."  
"That's where we are going." Chloe stated, already knowing what her father was planning.  
"Right. Our E100 and two E75's will engage them in the town while Scott and Blake will flank around and cut off their retreat."  
"What about their Bat chats? There are three of them and if they catch Scott and Blake they will hammer them." It was Scott that Chloe was truly concerned about, but here in front of her father, she kept her emotions in check, the way he had trained her to.  
"That's why I sent the IS-7 and two IS-3's to the east. I'm hoping they will draw the bat chats in so that our arty can hammer them back."  
It was a good plan. A typical plan of John's, one that required both hard-line aggressiveness and subterfuge. The key had been removing the eyes of the enemy force, the light tanks. Scott had already removed the WZ from play, and John hoped that the AMX would be erased by the IS team as they advanced eastwards.

"Contact. Enemy spotted"  
"Hold fire until he crests the ridge."  
"Roger that." 

Scott watched silently through his view scope as the enemy WZ-131 hurtled down the far slope of the valley.  
"You ready for him Mark?" Scott asked quietly into his headset.  
"Target acquired" was the simple reply.  
Mark was the gunner. A quiet and gentle man, but deadly when it came to laying the main 105mm canon on target.  
"Hang fire until I give the order."  
Scott's main view scope was right next to the gunners, so his point of view was identical to Mark's. He waited patiently as the WZ disappeared behind the ridge, quartering slightly. Without a word, the turret of the Leopard 1 medium tank turned to the right, its gun being brought to bear on the spot where Mark predicted the WZ would reappear.  
Scott had no reason to doubt Mark's judgment. He was hardly ever wrong.  
As predicted, the WZ crested the ridge exactly where Mark had the 105mm gun brought to bear.  
"Fire." 

The WZ-131 lurched to the side as the 105mm Armor piercing composite rigid shell of the Leopard's main gun collided with its hull side armor. The shell punched right through the 20mm of armor, a full penetrating shot. It was, however, stopped, by the high tech ceramic armor inside the crew compartment, protecting the crew within. This was, after all, only a game. 

"Hit" Scott said aloud, his voice now slightly louder in his crews headsets. "396 damage dealt. Prepare to fire second shot, load HE!"  
Below Scott, Klaus Evans, barely having heard the order to change shell type, already had an HE shell in hand, his intuition of his commander and their target already having urged him to go for HE. Seven point nine seconds later, he had the shell in the breach and the breach lock closed.  
"Ready to fire!" he bellowed.  
"Mark, status?"  
Mark had kept the gun on the now fleeing WZ the whole time, the turret rotating and the gun elevating to compensate for shell drop to target.  
"Target acquired!"  
"Shoot!" 

The deafening boom of the main canon was a main stay of every crewman's life, yet each of them still blinked, the only visible reaction, as the high powered cannon let loose another shell. This one collided with the back side of the WZ's hull. This time the shell exploded on impact, causing a devastating blast that wrecked the tank's engine and blew off its right track, causing it to grind to a halt. 

"Hit! 468 damage. He's still got some life left in him!" Scott said to his crew. He had hoped for more damage with that shot, but he had known not to expect it. "Reload, HE! Tom, prepare to get us out of here."  
"Aye sir!" replied Tom, the driver, as he revved the diesel engine of the Leopard, readying her for departure once the kill shot had been fired. 

"Ready to fire!"  
"Shoot!"  
The WZ erupted into flames as the final HE round hit it. Its full allotment of hit points, 880, had now been taken away by three quick shots from the Leopard 1. The crew inside were unharmed, however, the composite armor of their crew compartment and their battle suites doing what they were designed to do, keep them safe. Their tank, however, was dead, now awaiting the end of battle to be removed and repaired. The WZ-131 is a rare tank after all, one especially made for the game. 

"Ok Tom, let's go." Scott now said. He then flicked a switch on his UHF radio, initializing the connection between his tank and that of his company commander's. "This is Leo 1, come in CO."  
"Hold on for CO" came the reply from a voice that Scott would have preferred to his CO's.  
Scott waiting only a few seconds for his commanding officer to come online.  
"Reading you loud and clear Leo 1. What's the story Scott?"  
"Enemy wee-zee is down sir, proceeding to second check point."  
"Roger that son, head on over. Blake and his 140 are already there waiting for you."  
"Got it sir."  
"Good work Scott, over." 

Captain John Ronaldson was a broad, over bearing man with a deep booming voice and the tact of a pork chop in a Jewish synagogue. But he was a caring, loyal man, and above all else, he knew how to command a company of tanks like few others. His company, Echo company, was the reason that Clan BLAZE was leading this year's clan wars. And the young man who commanded the Leo 1 was a fundamental part of his strategies.  
John knew that Scott was good. He had trained Scott to be the commander he had become, efficient, resourceful, quick thinking and creative, the perfect blend of out the box thinking combined with traditional powerhouse tactics.  
_Just the man to succeed me_, John thought to himself as he sat with his head outside the commanders hatch of his E100 super heavy tank.  
"Sir?" said a young, feminine voice.  
"Up here Chloe." John boomed into his headset.  
Chloe Ronaldson was John's youngest daughter, but already she was twenty five. A blonde bombshell, she was the companies golden girl and the pride of John's old age, the perfect replica of his late wife.  
The secondary hatch next to John opened up and out came Chloe's head, her long blonde hair beat down by her helmet.  
"Hi sir." she said sweetly.  
"Chloe." he simply said, trying his best to keep professional, but failing as a broad, proud smile spread across his face.  
"How we doing?"  
"Your the radio operator, you should know" he accused her with a smile.  
"I do, but I want to know what you think." she winked back at him. Chloe knew exactly how to charm her over bearing father. She loved him as a daughter should, knowing how much it meant to him to have her with him in his profession. And it was a big bonus that she loved tanks almost as much as he did. She had, after all, grown up on and around them.  
"Ok. Well, Scott just radioed in. He just took out the wee-zee. That just leaves the AMX 13 90 and the Chaffee alive to scout for the enemy. That means that they will have to start playing more forward. If I have guessed right, that means that their Maus and the two T57's will probably head to the town."  
"That's where we are going." Chloe stated, already knowing what her father was planning.  
"Right. Our E100 and two E75's will engage them in the town while Scott and Blake will flank around and cut off their retreat."  
"What about their Bat chats? There are three of them and if they catch Scott and Blake they will hammer them." It was Scott that Chloe was truly concerned about, but here in front of her father, she kept her emotions in check, the way he had trained her to.  
"That's why I sent the IS-7 and two IS-3's to the east. I'm hoping they will draw the bat chats in so that our arty can hammer them back."  
It was a good plan. A typical plan of John's, one that required both hard-line aggressiveness and subterfuge. The key had been removing the eyes of the enemy force, the light tanks. Scott had already removed the WZ from play, and John hoped that the AMX would be erased by the IS team as they advanced eastwards.  
"But that still leaves their arty in play." Chloe chimed in. She had a deep respect for artillery, knowing just how destructive a well sighted and well trained arty could absolutely wreck even the best laid plans.

"And that's where our T-54's come into play."

"So they will punch through the lines and make an arty run?"

John smiled. His daughter was smart, having spent her whole life around him and his life's work, tanks. She had a deep understanding of tactics and strategies, even being able to mastermind a few of her own.

"Affirmative. And once they are done there, they will double back onto the main force in the town or assist the IS group with the Bat chats. "

_Yes, a good plan indeed, _John thought to himself, _if it all goes to plan. _They were, after all, up against clan INFMUS. Infamous had become known as one of the hardest hitting clans in all the clan wars, preferring to use auto loading tanks.

Autoloaders were devastatingly powerful machines, for as long as they still had shells in the magazine. Once they had fired off all of the currently loaded clip, they had to disengage, pull back and reload. For some tanks, such as the T57, this wasn't such a long process, only taking about 25 seconds. For other machines, such as the AMX 50B or the bat chat, this meant completely withdrawing to a safe location so that the crew could remove the spent casings and replace with new ones, taking up to a minute.

On the battlefield, a minute is a very long time.

"Tom, bring us alongside will you." Scott said into his headset as he sat atop the turret of his tank. The Leopard was a fast tank, capable of maintaining 65km an hour even over rough terrain, and this terrain was certainly rough. The tank rocked and lurched as the suspension did it's level best to keep the tank stable, but over this uneven ground, it was always going to be rough.

"You got it sir." Mark replied, his own head outside his drivers hatch, giving him a better field of view.

"About time you got here Scott" came the cracked, sarcastic remark over the UHF.

"Well someone had to take care of the wee-zee, and guess they knew you couldn't do it" quipped Scott with a chuckle.

"Yeah yeah." came the chuckled reply.

Blake Haverness was a small man, barely five foot eight. But what he lacked in size he made up for in tenacity and volume. It didn't help that he was Scottish either. Give him half a bottle of whiskey, and you had either an instant party, or instant war.

His tank, an Object 140, was a medium tank of Russian design. Quick, fast firing and with surprising turret armor, it was a tank that excelled in bullying smaller targets and annoying larger ones. _Just like its commander, _Scott thought with a rue smile.

Mark skillfully brought the Leopard to a standstill alongside the 140, dropping the rev's of the diesel engine to a barely audible idle.

The top hatch on the turret of the 140 flew open, and out popped the head of its commander.

"So what's the plan?" Blake shouted, despite the fact that he was wearing his headset.

"You know." Scott shot back.

"Aye, but I just like to be reminded by the Captains golden boy" Blake chided with a grin.

"We hit them from behind. We take out the T57's first, when they are reloading. Focus fire and get the hell out of dodge if it looks like they are about to open up."

"And the Maus?"

Scott grinned, a half smile that everyone who knew him instantly recognized, and some feared.

"Dibs"


	2. Chapter 2

"Roy!" John bellowed, now firmly strapped into his commanders seat inside his E100. "Target T57 to our right side! Aim for the turret ring, load AP!"

Roy, the gunner, already had the sights of the gun laid on his target when the loading procedure of the 150mm main cannon was complete.

"Target acquired!"

"Shoot!"

The 150mm armor piercing round had a very slow travel speed due to the low velocity produced by the short barrel of the gun. It was, however, more than sufficient to pierce the armor found at the turret ring.

"Hit! Damage, 830! Good hit people." John said with his eye to his main view scope. "Reload, AP! Standby to receive fire!"

The T57's main 120mm auto loading gun was now pointed right at the lower glacis plate of the E100, the biggest frontal weakness on the super heavy tank.

"Tim, prepare to swing her round!"

"Yes sir!"

John was still eyeing the T57, trying his best to judge the moment when they would fire. The 120mm cannon was still moving, evidently the gunner looking for the best point of aim. Then the gun lay still.

_He's on us._

"NOW TIM!"

Instantly Tim, the driver, hit his foot hard to accelerator pedal, unleashing all of the Maybach engine's 1200 horse power into turning the tank. The nose of the hull swung round to the right just as the first round was fired from the T57. The round, which had been so carefully aimed for the weakest point in the hull of the E100, now bounced harmlessly off of the heavily angled lower glacis. In one move, by means of turning the tank, they had effectively doubled the effective armor of the weak lower plate.

"Reverse turn now!" John yelled for his driver, deep inside the behemoth tank to hear, despite the radio linked headsets they all wore. Immediately, the tank swung back in the other direction and the next shot from the T57 again ricocheted away harmlessly.

"And again Tim!" John urged. This time though, the lower glacis wasn't quite angled enough and the round penetrated, taking away 478 hit points from the E100's 2700hp reserves. The last round from the T57's clip, just like the first and second, bounced off of the steeply angled lower plate.

"Reloaded!" Came the call from Hans, the E100's chief loader.

"Roy, status?" John asked.

"No shot, no shot! He's pulled behind some rubble and we have no clear penetrating shot!" Roy shouted back. It was amazing how, even with headsets and radios, tankers still felt the need to shout when engaged in a fire fight.

"Tim, get us after him." John said as he double checked his top side view ports which were angled out behind him and to the sides. "Chloe, radio the E75's and tell them to flank around into sector E7. Tell them to be on the lookout for the other T57.

"Yes sir!"

The E100 surged forward, its mighty bulk straining even the tarred road beneath it. The T57 retreated further behind the rubble, starting to back around behind a building. 10 seconds of its reload time had elapsed. Within 15 seconds it would be ready to fire again, and this time, it would be firing HEAT, high explosive anti tank rounds. They would have no trouble in going through even the turret of the E100.

John's E100 was now just about to turn around the pile of rubble, ready to fire on the fleeing T57. That's when the first volley hit them.

2000 meters away, a battery of two T92 SPG's and a Bat chat 155 58 artillery piece had just loosed their first volley into the pre-determined spot where their commander had hoped to lure the E100. The T92's, with their devastating damage and splash radius, would now have to stop and reload, which would take considerable time. The bat chat 155 58 on the other hand, still had three more shells in its clip to loose at the enemy. Three seconds later another shell was in the air, and after only a total of fifteen seconds, all four of the SPG's shells had been lobbed at the E100. Two misses and two hits.

"Get that fire out!" John boomed. His tank had taken serious damage from the arty barrage. Both of his tracks were off, his engine was on fire and the main gun had been damaged. To top it all off, he had lost a total of 1276 hit points. He cursed himself silently for not considering the possibility that INFMUS had pre-set their arty specifically to take him and his E100 out. And now, the T57 was coming back for them, and he was more than capable of taking away the 946 hit points that John's E100 had left.

"Chloe! Get on the radio and find out where the hell Scott and Blake are!"

"Yes sir!" she answered back, her hands already speedily working the dials to zone in the correct frequencies for Scott's Leo and Blake's 140. "Scott? Do you read me Scott?"

"Reading you loud and clear Chloe. You guys ok? We heard the enemy arty go off" concern flooded Scott's voice, and even in the heat of battle, Chloe noticed it with a smile.

"We've been hit really hard. We're down to 900hp and the T57 has us pinned down. Where are you?"

"We've just entered the town. We were on route to assist the E75's with the Maus and one T57, but we are re-routing now to aid you."

"Copy that. See you in a bit."

"Tom, when we meet up with them, you put us between the T57 and John's tank, got it?" Scott asked his driver as his tank hurtled through the town, the Obj 140 following behind.

"Got it sir."

"Mark, make you shots count bud. Aim for either the turret ring or lower glacis. Preferably the turret ring. We might get lucky and take it out entirely."

"Yes sir."

"And Klaus, give us nothing but HEAT here. We can't afford for even one bounce."

"Aye sir!"

"Ok boys, lets hit him hard and fast."

The Leopard 1 screamed around the corner of a building into the last known position of the T57 and their E100. As they rounded the corner, Scott, still sitting with his chest and head outside his tank, spotted their target. The T57 was busy emptying its clip into their E100, which now had only 489 hit points.

Before the kill shot could even leave the barrel of the 120mm cannon, Tom had the Leo parked in front of its gun. The shot caught the Leo on the upper glacis, but still penetrated the weak armor of the Leopard 1's hull. She was designed for speed, not to bounce.

The T57 had been taken completely off guard. The juicy target that was the lower glacis of a heavily damaged and tracked E100 was now blocked by a nearly full health Leopard 1. The T57 gunner looked for a way to get the kill shot into the E100, but now the only visible shot was on the slightly turned and angled turret, and the gunner knew that was a 50/50 shot.

Before he could even take it though, the 105mm gun of the leopard fired, throwing up a cloud of smoke and dust that blocked the view of the gunner, and a 105mm HEAT round right into the turret ring of his own tank.

"Get us out of here!" the T57 commander yelled to his driver. Immediately the T57 lurched backwards, only to come to a complete stop against an enemy Obj 140.

"SURPRISE!" Blake shouted as his tank's 100mm gun fired, sending a round right into the back side of the T57.

The T57 was trapped between the Leo and the 140, with only two shells left in its magazine. But the commander was intent on putting them into some one, and the gun was already pointed at the Leopard.

"Fire!"

Scott winced as the HEAT round punched through the front of his tank. The blast from the impact buffeted him and he could feel the heat on his face. But he was in full combat get up, and he knew that the technology in his suite would not allow him to be harmed. Besides, he had better vision from up on his turret, way better than he would have if he only relied on his view scopes.

The T57 had one more round, but it wouldn't get the chance to fire it. A double tap from Scott's Leo and Blake's 140 was all that was needed to put it out of action.

"You ok in there Chloe?" Scott asked now into his headset.

"All good. Captain wants to speak with you." came the crackled reply in his ears.

"Scott?" the headset boomed.

"Yes sir?"

"Good job my boy. Unfortunately, any second we are gonna take another volley from the arty. They are zoned in here and we will be dead. You're in command of this battle now. You know the plan, see it through and win this one for me, will you?"

"You're not dead yet sir!" Scott said with grim determination.

"Tom! We gotta push the E100 back behind that building. If we can just get him around, then they will be ok." Scott shouted to his driver as he looked behind him at his captain's tank and the nearest available arty cover. "Blake, help us out would you!"

"You know it Scott!" The 140 was already pulling out from behind the wreck of the T57 and heading over to help the Leopard as it struggled to push the disabled wreck of the E100.

"Chloe, get the T-54's on the wire and find out how far they are from taking out that arty." Scott said as he jumped down from off of his tank. He ran to the back of the E100 and climbed up onto the giant tank. John already had his hatch open and was out on top of the turret.

"This is crazy Scott!" he shouted with a smile.

"Just crazy enough to work" Scott winked back at his CO.

As the second volley of arty shells fell, the Leo and 140 just managed to push the hulking E100 around the building.

"Your still gonna have to hang back some sir," Scott said with a smile on his face atop the E100's turret, "but at least you can still lead us to the win."

John grabbed his protégée's hand and pulled him into a bear hug.

"You're a good man son." he said with a smile. "Go get em for me."

"Affirmative!"

"Ok, so everyone knows the plan, right?" Scott asked into his headset.

"Yup, I think we all have it." John replied.

Scott's plan was simple. All it called for was a well coordinated push towards the enemy base, a pill box at the back of the demarcated battle ground. The E75's would roll forward with the E100, providing a shield for the badly damaged command tank. Whilst they slowly trundled forward towards the enemy base, Scott would flank out to the east with one T-54, and Blake to the West with the other two T-54's.

What deeply concerned Scott, however, was the enemy bat chat's. There were two left, one with very low hit points but the other with its full allotment. The IS group had failed to take them out. Both IS-3's and the IS-7 were gone for only one enemy bat chat and the AMX 13 90. Now, the two remaining bat chat's were roaming around somewhere, looking for their next victims. For this reason, John had assigned Sergeants Brad Larkin and Igor Ivanovich to go back and protect the artillery with their Obj 268 tank destroyers.

The E75's had successfully dealt with the remaining T57, having only taken one penetrating hit each. All that was left to deal with before the advance was the Maus.

"Let's roll out people" Johns voice echoed through every crewman's headset. "Scott, I believe you had dibs on the Maus."

"Affirmative!"

"Well then go get him" John smiled, his old face wrinkling at his eyes.

_This will be fun to watch in the replays, _he thought to himself.

Scott's Leo1 was now flying down the main street of town, Scott's head out of the top hatch scanning for the enormous tank.

"There!" he shouted as he caught a glimpse of the backside of the Maus rounding a building. "Tom, hard right here! We will cut him off on the next block."

The Leopard lurched to the right, power sliding on the smooth tar road. As they raced towards the end of the block, Scott readied his top side MG42 heavy machine gun. Although it would be useless against most any tank, it was very effective at getting enemy commanders to duck down into their tanks.

Thanks to the high tech combat suites, no round or even shrapnel would ever hurt any crewman. The ultra thin, super light, but extremely tough body skins were the first things to go on. They could withstand point blank shots from modern rail guns, let alone turn of the century firepower. Over the skins came the crewman's uniform, then the BDU, or battle defense unit, essentially a modern day flak jacket and helmet. The helmet had a laser array in the rim, invisible to the naked eye, but there all the same, triggered by high velocity to stop rounds and shrapnel from impacting a crewman's head or face.

To date, no one had ever even been scratched from live fire in the games. But as Scott and so many others had experienced before, getting hit by anything, even though it would never draw blood, was still a painful experience, like getting kicked in the gut. Most commanders would never stay out in the open during live fire, despite the advantages that there were to being out in the open.

It was for these reasons that Scott now had the MG42 primed and ready to fire, to get the Maus commander to stay inside his tank, and rob him of the visual benefits of having his head out in the open rather than being confined to the inside of a metal box with only a few peep holes out.

"Mark, turn turret 90 degrees left. Ready AP rounds and prepare to fire as we come out past the last building. The Maus will be there, try and track him."

"Yes sir!"

"Tom, whatever you do, don't stop. We will do a fly by shooting. Don't turn into the road, but carry on straight. There's a square just beyond the turn. We will turn around, come back and get around the Maus. Hang in his blind spot if you can, I will keep the CO's head down."

"Got it sir."

"Ok, here we go!"

The Leopard 1 shot out from the corner directly in front of the Maus, barely 5 meters in front of it. The gunner of the Maus instinctively let out a snap shot, but it flew wildly to the right of the fast moving medium tank.

Mark's shot was much more accurate, finding the right hand side track of the Maus and blowing it clean off. Scott's MG42 was chattering away from atop the turret. The Maus commander, having nearly jumped clean out of his tank from shear fright, immediately ducked back inside, slamming the hatch closed above him.

The Leo carried on directly straight across the road and into the square ahead of it. As if it were a race car, Tom spun it round, forcing Scott to hang on for fear of being thrown from the turret. Even Klaus and Mark had to cling to their hand holds within the tank.

Tom let out a 'whoop' as he completed the turn, then mashed his right foot hard down. Black smoke belched from the diesel's exhausts and the Leo leapt forward, angling for the rear of the Maus, who's turret was already slowly turning to get a lock on the speedy Leopard. The barrel of the gun could barely keep up as the Leo now raced across its side, the gunners clutch shot again missing.

"Aim for his turret ring Mark!" Scott yelled, still firing his MG42 in controlled bursts at the Maus's turret.

_If I could just hit the gun sight, _he thought with grim determination, tightening his grip on the firing handles of the heavy machine gun.

The leopard's main gun fired, the 105mm shell striking just high of the turret ring of the Maus, harmlessly bouncing away.

"Again!" Scott shouted. They were now behind the immobile Maus, who's turret was still trying to come about and get on them. "We have time for one more shot Mark."

"Target acquired" Mark breathed out, squeezing the trigger on his gunners controls. The gun recoiled back hard on its breach, some of the exhaust gas blowing out the spent shell casing. Klaus, the giant that he was, already had the next round in hand, ready to slam back into the still hot and smoking breach.

The round found its mark, hitting the turret ring of the Maus, shattering it and instantly stopping it from traversing further. Scott was now at liberty to stay parked where he was and slam round after round in to finish the super heavy tank off. But he didn't have time for that.

"Warren, Gunther?" He radioed out.

"Ja?" Came the crackled reply.

"Open fire, exact co-ordinates E.765-7.098."

"Ja wol!"

Two GW type E100 super heavy SPG's fired off their salvo simultaneously, the 210mm Morser shells arching over three kilometers before finding their well aimed target.

The Maus, the heaviest tank in the games, and armed with the largest health pool, was removed from the game in one carefully aimed arty salvo.

"Sucks to be you" Scott said as they sped away from the smoking wreck.


End file.
